


Sealing The Deal

by cullenlovesmen (handersmyheart)



Series: Bi!Cullen fics [8]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, The Death of Stalin (2017)
Genre: Crack, I have no idea what I'm doing, M/M, Negotiations, One Night Stands, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Cullen Rutherford, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-04 12:46:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16346996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handersmyheart/pseuds/cullenlovesmen
Summary: I could explain myself, but I'd really rather not.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [McLavellan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/McLavellan/gifts).



> For McLavellan. For reasons.
> 
> General Zhukov was a Soviet WWII hero. I'm using him here as seen in the movie The Death of Stalin. If you haven't seen it, do yourself a favour and watch it asap! Jason Isaacs is absolutely brilliant as Zhukov.
> 
> Oh, and don't read this. Please. Just don't read this.

The remainders of the Nevarran loyalist Templars had offered their aid to the Inquisition. The papers had been signed and sealed, Josephine's tireless work having paid off, and all that remained was for Cullen to meet the esteemed Knight-Commander Zhukov in person to discuss the practical details. 

He was clad in his finest uniform, red and gold, its collar itchy and uncomfortable. He hated this. The Knight-Commander was thirty minutes late and Cullen wondered if it was some kind of a mind game. It was improper to keep an ally waiting, but here he was, standing next to the dinner table as he awaited his companion. 

Suddenly the door flew open and in strode a tall, middle aged man dressed in a green uniform, his face severe and yet handsome. His chest was adorned with dozens of medallions that jingled as he walked briskly towards Cullen with two of his men in tow. He stopped a mere step away from him, and Cullen resisted the urge to back away.

"Right!" the man barked curtly, shedding his overcoat in one swift motion. It landed on one of his men, the young templar letting out a yelp before hastily detangling himself from the heavy garment. "Shut it!" Zhukov admonished, eying the scared young thing with disdain. Suddenly he snapped his attention back to Cullen.

"Knight-Commander Zhukov!" the man said, grabbing Cullen's hand and squeezing it hard. His face spread into a wide smile, all the annoyance and severity gone in a blink of an eye.

Cullen forced himself to recover from the strange display, schooling his expression into a welcoming but reserved smile. "Commander Cullen Rutherford. Shall we dine?"

"Certainly!" Zhukov turned to his men, sending them off with an impatient hand gesture. 

The men seated themselves by the table. "So, straight to business?" Zhukov asked.

They talked over the agreement written by diplomats of their respective organizations, debating how to put the clauses into practice. Zhukov seemed like a very rational man; intelligent and reasonable, but not without humor. Their food was served, and by the time the second course arrived, the practical details had been agreed upon. 

"You don't look like a Commander, Ser Cullen," Zhukov smirked from behind his wine glass.

"Oh? And how is a Commander supposed to look like?" Cullen arched an eyebrow, his fork suspended halfway between his mouth and the plate.

"Old, gray, annoyed. Like myself," he responded, his tongue sweeping his front teeth just behind the lip. "I am complimenting you, I assure you."

Cullen resisted the urge to frown in confusion. Was he being flirted with? The man was downright peculiar, full of contradictory characteristics - his behaviour ranged from dramatic to pragmatic, his demeanor changing before Cullen could adjust himself accordingly. How was he supposed to read him? 

Perhaps sincerity was the way to go. "You give yourself too little credit, Knight-Commander," Cullen finally said, a slight blush rising to his cheeks. 

Zhukov chuckled and changed the topic, launching into humorous stories of Nevarran political mishaps. Cullen found himself loosening up, the fourth glass of wine and the sugary dessert going straight into his head. The man was amusing, an animated storyteller that dropped profanities in all the right places, and Cullen couldn't help but pay rapt attention as he reached the climax of his story.

"... and none of the healers knew what to do! If the King survived, he'd execute each and every one of them. If he died, his successor might do the same! So they just left him in his bed and debated until he died, right there behind their backs. Maker, what a farce it was."

They dissolved into laughter, the last of the wine gone, the table between them cleared. It was time to call it a night and depart. It had gone better than Cullen had expected - the conversation had been easy and negotiations quick. Silence fell once their last bursts of laughter finally subsided.

"So. Shall we seal the deal?" Zhukov asked, straightening his uniform and shooting an inquisitive gaze at Cullen as he rose from the table.

Cullen swallowed, taken aback by the sudden proposition. "Is... that a Nevarran custom?"

"No, nor is it mine. But what say you?" 

Cullen bought himself time by standing up and smoothing down his uniform. Their guest would depart on the morrow, possibly never to be seen again in person. He hadn't prepared for anything like this; he didn't have the time to indulge in such affairs, responsibilities and duties weighing heavy on his shoulders, but Zhukov was attractive and funny - and an equal in every sense of the word. Could he do this? It wasn't in his nature to enjoy a night and leave in the morning, but he found himself very tempted to do just that - just this once. 

"Let us retire to my quarters for further negotiations, Knight-Commander."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why did you read this? I told you not to. 
> 
> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I still don't know why I'm doing this.

This was not what he had expected when he’d invited Knight-Commander Zhukov to his quarters. The man had started stripping before he could offer him a drink, unceremoniously discarding his clothes on the floor, his precious medallions scattered around the pile.

“Right! Lubrication?” he asked briskly, standing naked in the middle of the room, rubbing his hands together.

Cullen stood rooted to the spot, struck speechless by the Knight-Commander’s forwardness. His hand flew to the back of his neck, a blush decorating his cheeks, unsure where to cast his eyes. Just what was he supposed to do now? 

“Commander. Lubrication?” Zhukov demanded, snapping his fingers impatiently.

The words finally registered and Cullen sprung to action, climbing up the ladders to his bedroom. “I, uhh. Follow me, Knight-Commander,” he said, his foot slipping from a step, hastening upwards in an undignified manner. He went straight for the small vial of oil he kept for… private enjoyments and held it out to the other man when he made it to the bedroom. 

Zhukov guffawed, surprise evident in his eyes as he took the offered item. “My, Commander, I didn't know you were in such a rush. I thought we might have a drink before we go at it, but–”

“No, I’m sorry, I didn't realise–” Cullen tried to interject, horrified, but Zhukov pressed on.

“ _But_ this is perfectly fine, too. Now, get on your back, Commander,” Zhukov commanded, gesturing to the bed. He looked into Cullen’s eyes, expectant and more assertive than any naked person had any right to be. “If you want this, that is.”

Cullen knew an out when we heard one, but as awkward and artless as he may have been, he hadn't thought of backing down from whatever the Knight-Commander had in mind for them. He took off his shoes and settled on the bed carefully, uncertainly, leaving a spot for the other man next to him. 

“You could call me Cullen. Since, uhh, we’re going to do _this_ , it would,” Cullen swallowed as Zhukov approached, his knee dipping the mattress, “make sense not to use titles,” the man seated himself on Cullen’s lap, his legs bracketing his sides, “… while we're in here.”

“ _Cullen_ ," Zhukov repeated, as if tasting the word, squinting his eyes in thought as he pressed his hands to Cullen’s chest. “Yes, that is very nice,” he finally amended before leaning down for a kiss. 

It took Cullen a good while to relax, the man above him intense and dominant. It had been too long, really, and having another body against his own felt alien at first. But the Knight-Commander knew what he was doing, his hands and lips finding the sensitive spots on Cullen's neck while his hips grinded against his own. Soon he was panting and slightly dizzy, the stiff uniform quickly becoming a hindrance between them. 

Cullen brought his hands on Zhukov's back, tentatively caressing him, surprised at the softness of the skin he found there. The man let out an encouraging sigh against the side of his neck that sent shivers straight down his spine. Emboldened, Cullen continued his ministrations, nudging Zhukov's cheek until they were kissing, slow and wet.

He had forgotten what this felt like, he realised. 

"Right. So, how about you fuck me then?" Zhukov asked, pulling away to smirk at him. He quirked an eyebrow, waiting for a response.

"Sure. I mean, of course," Cullen stammered, once again thrown off the loop. 

"Good man," the man grinned, giving a hard pat of affirmation on Cullen's shoulder before dislodging himself. He started working on Cullen's pants right away, tugging them down mid-thigh and turning his focus to the buttons of the uniform jacket. Cullen sprang to aid, unbuttoning from the top down, meeting Zhukov in the middle. He was about to shrug it off, but the Knight-Commander caught his arm.

"Leave it. Looks good," he said, running appreciative eyes over the expanse of Cullen's torso, reinforcing the blush fixed on his cheeks. 

Cullen forced himself to relax as he watched the man reach for the oil. He coated his fingers, quickly corking the vial and discarding it to the side. He shot an encouraging smile at Cullen as he resumed his place on his lap, the oiled fingers disappearing behind his back. 

The man above him was fully exposed, his impressive physique right there on display for him, slowly moving up and down on his fingers. His erection rubbed against Cullen's, the small stimulation making him gasp in shock. Cullen allowed himself to really _look_ for the first time that night, admiring the well-toned body of a seasoned soldier, taking in the impressive size of the man - large in more ways than one. His breath hitched when he met Zhukov's gaze - the man's pupils were blown, the smirk had disappeared. 

Zhukov grabbed Cullen's dick, no permissions asked, stroking it with his oily hand, expertly moving it to where he needed it. Cullen held his breath, and one final look passed between them - a wordless consent requested and granted - before the man started a low descent. The squeeze of his muscles felt impossibly tight - there was no way would it fit - but the Knight-Commander kept going, sinking ever lower, their hips soon to meet. 

Cullen's breaths came in little hitches, the feeling too intense. He had _really_ forgotten what this felt like. He resisted the urge to press his head to the pillow and just push, opting instead to stare at the man - quite possibly fifteen years his senior, but more than a physical match to him. His taut muscles were bulging, his erection stood at an impressive angle, and Cullen craved to reach out and touch him, but he dared not move. Finally the slide came to an end, their connection at its fullest, and Cullen gave in. His hands took their places on Zhukov's waist, thumbs rubbing at the pronounced hipbones.

"Good man," the Knight-Commander chuckled breathlessly, "but don't blow your load just yet. I will ask for a great many things from you." 

And a great many things he did ask for. After he had had his fill of riding, he demanded to be had hard from behind. Once he tired of that position, he insisted upon having his legs held on Cullen's shoulders and to be "drilled hard" - his words, not Cullen's. Cullen complied, giving the best effort he had, trying not to spend himself before the Knight-Commander was done with him. Finally Zhukov relented, his face pressed hard on the pillow, grunting his pleasure as he climaxed against the mattress. Cullen chased his own pleasure, letting it flood over him, finally coming in the pliant body and flopping bonelessly to his side.

They laid there catching their breaths for a moment, incredulous gazes exchanged in the afterglow. Suddenly the Knight-Commander was up, his posture upright and authoritative. "Right! Well, that was that."

"You're... leaving?" Cullen mumbled, exhausted and hardly coherent. 

"Yes? Sleep to be had, armies to lead. You know the deal," he explained, a little impatient. "But. Thank you, Commander. Truly." 

Cullen watched as the man's face melted into a genuine smile, unable to help responding in kind. "The pleasure was all mine, Knight-Commander." 

Zhukov nodded curtly and descended the stairs. When Cullen heard the door close, he wondered if Inquisition business would ever take him to Nevarra. He hoped it might.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments (including concrit) and kudos always welcome. Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://cullenlovesmen.tumblr.com)!
> 
>  
> 
> **Do yourself a very big favour and read the fabulous sequel by McLavellan[here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16437161)! **


End file.
